


i should have worshipped her sooner

by honey_butter



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Kristen Applebees-Centric, Non-Explicit Sex, Religious Imagery, the ~ is the about sign because they arent the same thing but close enough, this is just my religion ~ lesbianism agenda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_butter/pseuds/honey_butter
Summary: Kristen Applebees was god’s, and she was also Tracker’s, and those two facts were so entangled with one another that there was no hope in discerning where one began and the other ended.religion and lesbianism and the grey areas in between.
Relationships: Kristen Applebees/Tracker O'Shaughnessey
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	i should have worshipped her sooner

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! i am very excited about this one even though it might be a little snobby. a few warnings that this does include religious trauma, religious imagery close to christianity, some internalized homophobia, and canon typical, non-explicit sexual content that is the focus of the majority of this fic. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read. oh also i still am not done the second season but have read quite a few second season-related fics so there are a few spoilery things in here but it's all pretty vague.
> 
> title is from take me to church by hozier and let me just shamelessly plug my bad kids playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4SIEsSMcZLESarfj4j7Yxo?si=3n6Li0ukQ_exCamg0qIZyq) i've spent a long time on it and its organized by character so it's pretty poggers.

Above all else, Kristen Applebees was a woman of god.

She had run the gamut of detesting it, questioning it, and begrudgingly accepting it, but none of that could erase the fact that Kristen’s entire life had been molded around god. At first, that god had been one that wasn’t truly hers but had been picked for her, a farce of destiny which had led to more self-hatred and questionable decisions than any freshman should ever have to face. Helio wasn’t what she’d needed, nor were his followers, and both were to blame for the copious sessions with Jawbone she’d had since. Helio’s love had been suffocating. Smothering her bit by bit in expectations and tradition that left her gasping and straining to get any amount of air, any amount of life, into her slowly dying lungs. And when she pulled all those layers away, freed herself from the prison she’d once called home, she found herself adrift in a sea of questions that only left room for worse and worse answers. Then, she wasn’t choking on musty customs, but was instead fighting every second of every day to stop herself from drowning in the tidal wave of doubt that barraged her every waking minute. 

It’s hard to leave something that has always been there for you. Kristen didn’t relish cutting her family, her church off. Or, well, she did (with the exception of her brothers), but the absence it created in her life stung more harshly than her new friends could patch up. Those first weeks, months, had been hard. And it would always be hard, to a point. 

Enter: Tracker O'Shaughnessy.

The minute Kristen saw Tracker in that club she’d  _ known. _ Not anything like the true love bullshit that Fig seemed to be living with Ayda, but Kristen had been aware of two very important, very true facts. One) she was painfully and irrevocably gay. And, two) there was a way through this. 

Tracker, like many others, had lived Kristen’s story before and had come out the other side smiling and willing to fight for a better life, a happier life. Kristen would grow to love Tracker’s humor, Tracker’s kindness, and Tracker’s bravery, but the immediate effect she had on Kristen’s life was one of complete and unadulterated hope; hope for love and happiness and security. Kristen had been living without that for longer than she’d ever admit and she allowed herself to bask in its silvery light whenever Tracker spoke.

In that way, Tracker was Kristen’s second god.

Kristen Applebees was god’s, and she was also Tracker’s, and those two facts were so entangled with one another that there was no hope in discerning where one began and the other ended.

She worshipped both in their bedroom.

Hands came together in prayer just as they traced the cut of a jaw. Lips sounded out scripture like they mouthed at skin. Eyes squeezed shut the same in communion and in ecstasy.

Kristen’s temple could be found in the hollow of Tracker’s throat, in panting breaths and scrambling hands. Her holy vestments, simply the body she bared before her love. She tasted god’s breath in Tracker’s  _ “yes… please… there” _ and saw god’s outline in Tracker’s image, haloed as she held herself over Kristen. 

What they shared, it was holy. No matter the jokes they tormented the others with, those moments where it was just the two of them, wrapped up around and within each other, were just as sacred as any of Kristen or Tracker’s spells.

Prayer and sex were alike in that they were physical forms of love. Neither were needed to lead a happy, complete life, but Kristen had never been one to stop herself from having something she enjoyed. And she did  _ thoroughly _ enjoy both of them, the latter arguably more than the first. However, when she found herself laying above Tracker, staring down into an expanse of brown that could both move mountains and sing her to sleep, she found it hard to tell the difference between the two.

Kristen thought that you could find all the answers to the universe in a woman’s eyes, and even more in Tracker’s. 

There was a certain softness and fierceness to her that called to every single piece of Kristen’s heart. It’s part of what made their time together so good, so natural. And, Kristen supposed, part of what made the sex so good too, not that she had much besides her experiences with Tracker to base it off of. 

“Beautiful,” Kristen loved to murmur into Tracker’s skin, lips just barely brushing over the surface.

_ “Kristen,” _ Tracker would always gasp in response, hands moving to her hair or her back. The way that Tracker said her name, it made all of Kristen’s nerves stand on end, made her normally racing thoughts sharpen and focus on Tracker’s every breath, her every move. In those moments, Kristen would do whatever Tracker said. She would have killed for her, parted seas for her, called down miracles for her. She had done some of those things, would do them again. Anything to get Tracker looking at her like that, overwhelmed almost to the point of tears from a compliment, from Kristen’s hands, from Kristen’s love. 

Because Kristen really, truly loved her. More so, even, than she’d once loved Helio, back before she’d realized the truth of everything, or rather the doubt of everything. It was terrifying, sometimes, just how much power Tracker had over her, even when she was usually the one who was  _ technically _ in charge. The last time she’d given something, someone, that much control over her she’d ended up broken and hurting for it, but when Tracker smiled at her, when Tracker joked with her friends and fought by her side, Kristen was reminded that this time it was all worth it.

Even if it didn’t all work out in the end, if they weren’t always together, if they grew apart and changed too much to understand each other anymore,  _ this, _ what they have  _ right now, right here, _ this was worth it. Intimacy, Kristen thought, wasn’t an act. It was a choice. A decision to feel right about a person in a moment so that you’re close enough that they see all of you. Intimacy was Tracker pressing cold toes to Kristen’s ankles and Kristen helping Tracker when she couldn’t help but breakdown about her condition and what it would mean for her future. It was the pressing of lips and the caressing of fingers, and quiet laughter muffled into a too-late-dinner. Intimacy was Kristen looking at Tracker and choosing again and again and again to love her, not just because their love was easy but because it was hard too.

Loving Helio had been the easiest thing Kristen had ever done. It was brainless, ingrained in her from her first breath. Hell, she’d been  _ chosen _ for him before she could even breath. Rejecting him, letting herself embrace her truth and forge her own path ahead in the world, that was the hardest thing Kristen had ever done. But it was also the best. Tracker was a part of that journey, a part of that truth, a physical representation of how Kristen had grown from the repressed bigot she’d been on that first day at Augefort Adventuring Academy. And because of that, loving Tracker was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

Kristen’s sexuality wasn’t a choice. She had no control over what she wanted, who she wanted, and being attracted to Tracker wasn’t a choice either. Loving her was. It was deciding to be by her side, deciding to let her in, deciding to confide and listen and support each other even when they knew this might not be forever. But, Cass, she wanted it to be. If she got to see this Tracker for the rest of her life, the open and kind and confident Tracker, the Tracker that came apart under her hand just as beautifully as she ripped apart their enemies, the Tracker that built Kristen’s confidence, her happiness, back up.

There was nothing comparable to the way Kristen felt about Tracker. Even the holy darkness of her new god paled in comparison to Tracker’s deep, dark eyes, her warm lips that spilled sweetness and fierceness, the softness of her skin and the spill of her hair over her shoulder. Tracker was not Kristen’s god, because that wouldn’t be even remotely healthy and Kristen might not have the best models for relationships but she was also pretty sure the whole cleric-thing wouldn’t even work like that, but she  _ was _ holy in Kristen’s eyes. Blessed. 

Their love was not infallible. Kristen was more than aware that both of them could be very hard people to be around, and they had other friends, other things to do and people to do them with, but their time together was still sacred. And as long as both of them enjoyed that time, those moments, Kristen had decided that the rough parts weren’t enough to give up all of the happiness they shared.

Understanding that didn’t mean that Kristen wasn’t scared of losing Tracker. She was terrified. Kristen was pretty sure it would destroy her if Tracker got tired of her. She would have to learn to grow and move on, to leave Tracker behind in the sweet summers of her youth, but it would absolutely tear Kristen to shreds to do so. However, if it was what Tracker wanted, what she needed, she’d do it. But, if she lost Tracker to the afterlife, Kristen would march herself to Galicaea’s moonlit forests and fistfight the god herself if it meant getting Tracker back and safe. She knew that Tracker would do the same for her.

But Tracker  _ was _ here with her, right now, and while Kristen could never silence those fears, they were muted while Tracker was looking at her like that, smirking at her like that. Kristen wanted to tangle her hands in Tracker’s hair so she did, smoothing a thumb across Tracker’s unibrow before pushing her hands into her hair, pulling it entirely out of her face so that she could see her better. Tracker, for her part, ghosted fingers over the acne at Kristen’s cheekbones, leaning up to press a kiss to her nose.

“Hello.” Kristen had to fight to keep her voice steady.

“Hi,” Tracker breathed.

It did weird things to Kristen’s heart when Tracker’s voice got all quiet and breathy like that, a warmth even greater than she’d felt in Helio’s Corny Gates blooming in her chest.

“You’re blushing,” Tracker said, smirk returning to her beautiful, perfect lips.

“I love you,” Kristen said, because what else are you supposed to say when she’s staring at you like that?

The smirk slipped again, a wide-eyed, melting expression replacing it. This was the only time Tracker ever let herself shift like this, she was so strong, so brave, and Kristen loved that she could get her to turn soft and pliant under her hands just by speaking the truth. “I love you too.”

Kristen kissed Tracker and it was just as earth-stopping as their first time, just as emotional as when it was stained with tears, just as hopeful and happy and soft as a wakeup kiss, just as intense and loving and quiet and passionate and personal as… well, as every time. Tracker sighed into the kiss and Kristen breathed it in.

Tracker was a reminder of what she had escaped, but she was also a promise of a future. A future where Kristen could kiss Tracker like this everyday, could fall asleep and wake up in her arms, could live without the guilt still dogging her every step that this was wrong and bad and evil even though it felt so right, so good, so holy. 

So, Kristen kissed Tracker like she was all of her yesterdays and all of her tomorrows and loved her like she was all of her present. And in those moments it didn’t matter who Kristen’s god was, because Tracker was there and staring into her eyes and that was all Kristen needed, all Kristen wanted.

So, Kristen kissed Tracker and the rest of the world fell away.

  
  
  


_ “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, _

_ Which mannerly devotion shows in this; _

_ For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch. _

_ And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.” _

_ -William Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet) _

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i did end this with a romeo and juliet quote that isn't _super_ applicable to the fic but what of it. i hope you enjoyed this!! i'm on tumblr at [labelleofbelfastcity](https://labelleofbelfastcity.tumblr.com/) and, as always, don't be shy to leave a comment!! have an excellent day/night.


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